Resident Annoyance Fable Style
by Erszebet Bathory
Summary: Yet again two over-caffeinated teens enter another game. What havoc will they wreak this time? Contains references to Resident Evil obviously. Please read we will share our tacos.


We do not own Fable or Resident Evil for that matter all we own are tacos.

**Resident Annoyance Fable Style**

Laura awoke with her head throbbing. To her left lay her friend, knocked out. Laura stood up with some aid from a nearby brick wall. She then took the time to assess her surroundings, industrial buildings and what looked to be a large protest in the middle of the street.

"Reaver is exploiting us! We deserve fair pay," "We demand better working conditions," "We're workers, we're not slaves!" "There's only one thing for it," "We have to stand up to Reaver!"

" Poor wretch Laura thought, and not just because of his clothing. 'This is the last time I let Ian do any tinkering' Laura thought in disdain. He always screwed everything up sending the hapless pair to random alternate universes. What now?

"We have to stand up to Reaver!" The protester went on not noticing a cane tapping, when he was interrupted by a shot.

"But lying down is so much easier than standing up. My dear friends, in order to raise moral, I am offering prizes to the most deserving workers. The rules that will govern what I like to call the 'Reaver Team Spirit Award' are these: firstly, any worker that so much as murmurs another complaint will be shot; secondly, any worker who takes more than a three second break will be shot; thirdly, any worker who breaks any other rules I have yet to formulate will, you guessed it, be shot. You may return to work now. As you know I'm a generous man, and likely to start handing out prizes right away, so go on, shoo, be off with you, chop chop." replied a somewhat tall man with jet black hair and a painted black heart under his right eye.

Laura hated this smug bastard. She hated him when she was playing Fable and now that she was in Fable, she hated him all the more.

She opened her mouth about to yell out some derogatory comment when her mouth was clasped shut by a small bony hand.

"We don't need the attention not yet" was the explanation her short red-headed companion gave. Laura was thoroughly shocked, she didn't even comment on her what 'yet' meant. She was supposed to be the level-headed one of the two.

"And as you know I am a very generous man and likely to start giving out prizes quickly. So, chop, chop,shoo shoo, off you go." The despicable man turned gracefully, exuding an air of self-satisfied arrogance.

Laura couldn't finish seething her rage due to a brief interruption in her thoughts. This interruption was a somewhat disembodied scream followed by many 'No, No runaway!'s.

"Ashley" Laura growled. She knew exactly what was going on, its happened only to many times before.

"Now, Now", an eerily sweet innocent voice cooed. "Did no one ever tell you its rude to call people crazy." She delicately almost gracefully lunged a sharp dagger into the miserable man's side. As she took her 'instrument' out she added manically, "I prefer the term 'insane'."

"Ashley, No, stop this." Ashley turned around still keeping hold on her victim, as if he was in any kind of shape to move. "What did I tell you about torturing people? What about not needing the attention?" Laura mocked.

"If you recall I said 'yet'." She turned in a futile attempt to continue her 'fun'. "Ashley, what did he do?" "Why?, he called me crazy." "You know how much I hate that" the 'innocent' demon pouted.

The man that strikingly resembled the man that was just shot four times tried to speak. All the poor man could muster was a cough.

"Ashley, you're chocking him."

"And?"

"I'd like to hear his side of the story. Laura knew that no matter what the cause, the man didn't deserve this. But this little evil pixie she called a friend was no one to be reasoned with.

Ashley reluctantly let go, the man fell square on his bum. 

"I... said, he paused to take in a much needed breath, anyone whoooo likes Reaver is crazzzzzy."

"Ashley" Laura screeched whilst shaking her head. Ashley gave Laura her infamous puppy-dog eyes expression. Laura said nothing else and took the man in her arms. She headed for Bowerstone Market, she headed to The Magic Bottle potion shop.

Ashley felt a tab bit of remorse. Not for almost killing a man oh no, but for causing her friend great distress. Now, Laura should be used to her bloodthirsty ways but this seemed different. Ashley has sinked to a new level of insanity, she wanted to torture a man who inadvertently insulted her. Not that Ashley cared in the slightest at how deranged she is becoming but still her friends hurt expression in turn hurt her.

With that in mind, Ashley was determined to at least alleviate a minute portion of her transgression. Seeing as the clearly were sucked into to the world of Fable III, they probably would need money. Money to save Albion and defeat the Crawler. Ashley had an idea of where she might get it.

Laura was struggling to make it to The Magic Bottle. She just entered the town-square but she'd be damned if the old saying wasn't true. 'The last few steps are always the hardest.' Not that the man had that much weight on him, but by Kira she wasn't used to this kind of lifting.

A sign with a mirror showed brightly with intricate lettering underneath reading, _I'll Cut You_. Good, the potion shop should only be a few more paces forward. After about five painstakingly draining steps Laura's long legs propelled her through The Magic Shop's door.

It seemed that the alchemist, Matt as it says on his name tag, must have knew the man she was carrying. "Bob the Factory Worker" the old man shouted. "What happened?" "Laura shrugged her shoulders and took a seat on a near-by bench. She was beyond exhausted.

"I must warn you though", she began, "I have no money to pay for his treatment". Matt the alchemist responded in absolute gratitude, "No, no its fine." "I know Bob we go way back." He began to grab a medium sized pink bottle. "And he still owes me money, now he'll owe me his wife" the old man chuckled. Laura didn't take well to the alchemist's sense of humor and dashed out the door as fast she could. 'Why, why do the people of Albion have to be so daft?"

She then took a few minutes to regain her composure and tried not to notice the odd stares she received. She walked so far only to have to turn back to Bowerstone Industrial. Laura's idea light bulb turned on, she could teleport. She focused her psyche and then...

She was now near the rebel headquarters. She prepared herself for the awful stench of the sewers. Laura easily opened the rusted door and stepped in. 'Ugh. It smells worse than the licker pens in here.' Making her way to the base she stopped to see a graying older man with a trader moustache talking animatedly to a dark-haired rebel soldier. Major Swift! Laura was elated to be able to meet him before he met his fate. Laura knew of course that she mustn't say a word of whats to become of him to him. She could hear Theressa's condescending voice echo through her head as she stared, "You have no right to meddle with this man's fate. This is not your world; the very fabric of this reality rests on his death and I will not have you ruining MY Albion, _child_." Laura sighed as she moved forward, bracing herself for what would most likely be the longest, most awkward moments of her life.  
Swift turned, scowling, away from the rebel as he heard approaching footsteps. The rebel moved in front of the Major.  
"And who exactly are you? I've never seen you before. Identify yourself at once." The rebel looked ready to shoot her while Swift rested his hand confidently on his dagger.  
"A friend. I'm here to join the resistance." The rebel stepped forward menacingly. The girl did not move.

"Yeah? How'd you find this place? This here's a secret-type base. Who told you 'bout it?"

"What if I said a creepy old lady with no eyes told me?"

"I'd say you needed to get yourself lost real quick-like before sumthin unfortunate happins. Like my pistol here firin a bullet through yer spyin little head."

Swift placed his hand on the rebel's arm, moving him aside.

"An old lady you say?"

"Tallish, hood, nasty temper."

Major Swift turned back to the rebel, smiling.  
"Jonathan, take this one back to see Page. If the old witch sent her, we could probably use her help. And make sure she gets the message. I'll have you know I evaded two whole battalions of Logan's lackeys to to tell her." He laughed and turned to leave. "I'll be back. Just don't let Ben near her, that'll be trouble."  
"Major, don't..." Laura stopped herself, struggling against her natural instinct, not wanting herself to be capable of letting a good man die whilst she held the power to save him. In her mind, that put her on par with Wesker. But Theresa held the power here, unlike in her verse, and she could not rightfully challenge her.  
"Don't do what?"  
"Nothing. I just wanted to say thanks." Swift laughed again.  
"It's nothing, girl. If you can help us win this little coup, then I should be thanking you. Jonathan, tell Page I'll try to be back sometime within the next couple of days. That's about all I can spare with the preparations and such."

Her heart sunk to her feet as she realized she really was going to let him walk away.

"The people need someone to believe in!"

"But, like, OMG, I'd have to, like, touch them and stuff. Its, like, gross and stuff."

Page practically face-palmed at the princess's stupidity.

"Yes, that would involve actually interacting with the people in order for them to believe in you." Page's voice was rife with unnoticed sarcasm.

"Like, so what? What do I care? I will, like, force...Oooo...shiny." The princess was distracted by the purple on Laura's necklace as she waltzed in. "But like, why is a dragon on there? They're creepy and stuff you know?"  
"Who are you talking to? If you're halluci...", began Page before she turned and spied the newcomer and her escort.  
"Dragons are lucky, stupid girl. Don't you know that?" She paused for a moment, staring back at Page, trying to compose herself. "Well, I guess not. Seeing as the last dragon Albion saw was a reincarnation of Jack. Anyway, let me rephrase that; dragons are lucky where_ I_ come from."  
"Who Is this, Jonathan?"  
"The Major recommended her."  
"You can call me Laura."

Ashley strolled over from Bowerstone Industrial into the Market. She raced to a house so innocently called 'The Shrine'. An enthusiastic girl was happily chanting.

"Reaver rules, Reaver rocks." She sighed, as if to make her next phrase come out as a confession. "I love his smelly socks." She went on to explain her 'delicate' situation.  
When the girl, apparently called Benjamina, finally stopped for a breath, Ashley cut in.

"Look if you really want his undies you'll pay for them. $30,000 no less." The girl fidgeted wondering if this was worth it. Whilst the loony pondered said notion, Ashley concluded that those three buns on her head were wound to tight. That was obviously the cause of her insanity.

"O-Okay".

"I'll do it anything to complete the collection." Ashley painted herself a smirk of satisfaction. "You have got yourself a pair of Reaver's unmentionables then." As soon as the crazy began to thank her, the self-proclaimed pirate girl vanished.

Ashley arrived in Millfields exactly 2.5 minutes. 'I love being a tyrant' she though happily, 'I could totally go around the world in 80 days. In fact, I think that might be my next project'. The little psychopath grinned as she banged on the door with immense force.  
The butler answered the door whilst slicking his oily mane back.

"Hello there, here to see Master Reaver?" Something about this man didn't look right, though Ashley couldn't put her finger on it. He leered at her as she answered.

"Why no, I came her to see the greasy butler. What else would one come here for?" Her voice dripped with irritated derision.

"I assure you madame, I am not greasy in the least." Ashley didn't reply but she remained unconvinced. "I regret to inform you that Master Reaver is a little um...Indisposed at the moment."  
A nasally voice with a aristocratic air yelled out, "MY NOSE IS NO WHERE NEAR THAT BIG!" A shot could be heard abruptly after as well as a squeal.

"Aw, poor bugger, that's the fifth one this week." The butler said to no one, for it appeared that the girl had vanished.

Reaver walked down to his 'pleasure chamber', 'Bloody fool' Reaver laughed at his own pun, now Reaver had to clean his beloved Dragonstomper. And blood stains were ever so hard to get out. When he finally got the stain out he opened the chamber's door to put the gun in its keep box.  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a what seemed to be a shadow whisk by. 'What do they want? I made my payment' He considered it no longer and shot the shadow. Logically, he knew a shadow couldn't be penetrated by a bullet but when has logical ever governed his decisions before?  
The figure came to a halt.

"Well, that's no way to treat guests." Replied an faux innocent voice. Reaver took his time in eyeing the girl. That was his forte after all. She had medium length red hair that was paper thin and straight. She had petite body with oddly colored eyes of pure charcoal. He also took note of the blood smeared heart etched on the side of her face and smirked that annoyingly arrogant smirk.

"Now dear, I do believe I invite most of my guests. You must be one of my many fans." The man cooed whilst touching his chest to indicate his flattery. "That would explain our pareil hearts."

"Now I think your the one with a fantasy, my heart is red." The girl's lips curled into a twisted grin. "Blood red."

The industrial tycoon was a little taken aback by the girl's excitement, however he did not dare show it.

"Well then my little belle fou, what does bring you to my humble abode." The girl holds up the um fresh undies by the very edge.

"I came to get these for a friend."

"Well, whose this friend of yours, hmm?" Reaver was slowly inching forward with a predatory hint in his eye.

"Not really my friend, but a client if you will. She's all kinds of crazy." Reaver decided not to tell her his thoughts on the matter. If you asked him this girl was an absolute nutter. He thought it best not to upset her, the girl survived his shot after all. And he never missed. She should be dead. 'All is well I suppose, would be a waste to rid the world of such an artist.' An artist that wasn't to bad on the eyes and entertaining one at that. She was about to let her hook shot take her out the chimney, before his voice spoke once more.

"Tell me dear what is your name?"

"Ashley, Ashley Wong." the girl replied leaving a horrid afterface. Reaver grimaced but his facial features swiftly returned to his usual smirk.

"Ashley", Reaver purred, "how about you be a dear and bring your 'client' to me."

"Nope. She's providing me compensation." "Some genius once told me, if your good at something, never do it for free."

"And, I for one wholeheartedly agree." Reaver gestured towards his person. "Which is why I shall provide you what she offered and more."

"You'll get me my very own moose with stockings?" Ashley practically squealed with delight. She knew this disturbed the businessmen by the look of revulsion on his face.

"You'd think after the hundred somewhat years, you've been alive, you would know what sarcasm was."

"Really dear, I have been meaning to ask you. How _did_ you survive my shot?"

"Luck", Ashley grinned cheekily.

"No one has luck when Reaver's around. Now, tell Reaver the truth!" he all but demanded.

"Well, you see. I was a young girl in the prime of my life. I was afraid of death so I made a deal with the Shadow Court. They destroyed my village and... No wait that's you besides the being a young girl thing. I hope."

"My, my you do seem to know quite alot about me, and yet I know so little about you. Can't have that dear, can't have that at all." Reaver was clacking his tongue as if to chastise the girl but the smirk on his face said otherwise. He was gradually inching closer to the girl hoping that she would succumb to his presence. After all he was Reaver, what girl wouldn't, except that despicable rebel Page. My what poor taste she had. Ashley held firm pretending that he wasn't doing anything different.

"Well, there's not much you can do about it." Reaver didn't hear anything as his hand brushed her cheek.

Ashley's hook shot propelled her toward the chimney she had Santaed down.

"I believe you have gotten in my space bubble and that just won't do. Besides, your right you don't even know and I'm not that kind of girl." She said coyly and shimmed out.

Reaver couldn't help but be intrigued. He even broke into a fit of laughter after hearing the girl curse, "Blood and bloody ashes. damn bricks." He would be seeing her around he suspected.


End file.
